Flavors of Devotion
by ScourgeOfHell
Summary: A birds eye view of an incredibly unconventional relationship. A series of Negaishipping drabbles. Rated T to be safe
1. Chapter 1

So. It has recently come to my attention that this website doesn't have even a single Negaishipping drabble collection. This is, of course, a completely unacceptable state of affairs. To remedy this situation, I'll be unloading all of my unconnected drabbles, that were too weak to be transformed into real stories, into this one big fic. Also, I really don't have the type of determination required to write anything more than the odd, fluffy drabble.

This collection is essentially for anyone who wants a quick fix of negaishipping, without having to sift through plot and coherent narrative and all that nonsense (I'm looking at you Pokemaster366/ Moonlight Absol).

Also, the individual drabbles have individual ratings, between K-T. Others may be suggestive, and warrant a higher rating, but I'm really not gonna bump the rating up for maybe one, or two ficlets.

Lastly, the status of this fic shall forever be "Complete", mainly because I vowed never to publish an incomplete fic, but also because I have no clue whether I'll be updating at all. Indeed, the first three drabbles may be the only ones I ever write, in which case I'll make an ass of myself :/

Anywho, you can click the "Next " button now, if you already haven't done so.


	2. Becoming Family

It wasn't as if Iris was afraid of the notion of meeting Ash's mother. No that was a ludicrous suggestion at best. Iris didn't _fear_ anything. Fear was a relationship between little girls, and the monsters that lived beneath their beds. What Iris felt was more of a tactical anxiety, at the concept of being CT-scanned by Delia Ketchum's, scouring, judging eyes. No fear at all. When Ash asked her if she was nervous, all she could do was fake a laugh, and call him a child, and insult the cliché of a girl being nervous at meeting her boyfriend's mother, and hope he wouldn't hear her heartbeat skyrocket across the table.

Suffice to say, that when Ash woke up the next morning, to find Iris hysterically washing her face in a stream, and simultaneously trying to mat down her hair, he could only stare in wonder. They were within a few miles of pallet town now, and despite being as dense as he was, Ash could see what was happening. Creeping up beside her, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close, and whispered into her ear: "She'll love you"  
Despite herself, Iris could only croak out a "Really?" in response.

And before she knew it, they were in front of Ash's home. He kept an arm draped around her waist, when he ringed the bell as much to comfort her, as to prevent her from running away, something she seemed on the verge of doing.

And after Iris waited the longest ten seconds of her life, expecting a towering, schoolmistress of a woman, a dainty, middle-aged woman opened the door. She had Ash's brown eyes, as well as his cheekbones.

"Ash, she's beautiful", the woman proclaimed, and pulled Iris into the warmest, friendliest hug she'd ever shared.

And with that, Iris's weeks of apprehension immediately vanished, replaced by a feeling of belonging she'd never experienced before.


	3. Just Another Night

Ash could unequivocally state that sleeping beside Iris was simultaneously the comfiest, as well as the most harrowing part of his day. After a long and tiring day of work, Ash would crawl in between the sheets, and Iris would climb on top of him. It was an uncomfortable pose, but after a lifetime of sleeping in trees, it was not too bad. Despite Ash's disapproval, Iris would insistently wrap her arms around his neck, and fall asleep on her back, directly on top of him, with her head in the base of his neck, and quietly fall asleep.

Never once did she dare mention how much this helped ease her nightmares.

Sometimes at night, Ash would wake up, finding his throat parched. He would gently lift Iris's body off himself, and lay her aside, taking every precaution to prevent her from waking up. Yet no matter how much he tried, she would inevitable be awake, clutching his arm desperately, as he would get up to leave. He would turn around, and see her distressed eyes and the hand over her chest, and know that she'd been having a terrible dream.

He would take her in his arms, and kiss her on the forehead, and rub her back, and try to convince her that he's only going into the kitchen for a glass of water, and not walking out of her life forever, as her dream may have suggested.

He would urge her to go to sleep, laying her on her back and plant kisses on her eyes, to shut them. He would then hurry to the kitchen and quickly drink the much-needed water. Yet no matter how much he would try, she'd be waiting, propped up in the bed, clutching her chest with both hands, the distraught look ever present on her face. He would hand her the glass of water he will have conveniently bought along, and wrap his arms around her shoulders while she would drink it.

They would fall asleep again, Iris' arms wrapped even tighter around his neck. In the morning, she may have been the "Dragon of Opelucid", but at night, she was his vulnerable angel, and he would do anything to protect her.


	4. Reading between the lines

After a year of living with her, Ash had learned more than a handful of things about his girlfriend's secret jargon. Iris was one of the least straightforward people he knew, with each of her sentences having hidden meaning that he was to interpret on his own. The consequences for failure to do so were too severe to even speak of.

However, Ash soon learned that most of Iris's between-the-line messages usually followed a similar pattern. When iris said "it's hot in here", what she really meant was, "Let's take off our clothes and cuddle". When she complained that it was "too cold", what she really meant was "Go get a blanket, I wanna cuddle". If she said something along the lines of "I'm bored", she actually meant "Why aren't you over here, cuddling with me?" If she ever mentioned that he needed a bath, what she meant to say was "You're too stinky, and I feel like cuddling".

It wasn't as if Ash was averse to the idea of spending time being intimate with Iris. But when it came to anything personal, she always coated her meaning with a less suggestive sentence, and would call him a child. After a while Ash was forced to assume that every time Iris talked to him, she wanted him to spend time with her.

It was awkward, therefore when one day Iris called out from the kitchen for Ash to get vegetables from the market. He instinctively ran in, scooped her off her feet, and attempted to carry her into the bedroom. Needless to say, he was nursing a sore cheek for weeks after, and had earned the title of pervert, from Iris.


	5. Bad Hair Day

He was in big trouble now. Indeed "big" was an understatement; he was in a gargantuan, phenomenally massive amount of trouble. He was in trouble that absolutely redefined the word itself.

After so long, being Iris's boyfriend, you would think Ash would have learned a few things about her. He was allowed to tease her of course, such was his boyfriend-ish right. Indeed, Iris enjoyed being teased, to a certain degree. But in all those years, even an ingrate could have figured out what was allowed, and what was completely, and utterly off limits. And of all these things, Ash should have realized that never, under any situation, was he to make a potshot at Iris's _hair_.

Iris wasn't really very sensitive when it came to insults. As a girl who had grown up as the runt of the dragon village litter, she knew how to let insults slide off. But while insults pointed at her clothes, or her dark complexion never quite bothered her, the popular chant of "Iris the balloonhead", and the frequency with which it was uttered, had left quite a mark on her.

When she began travelling with Ash, she felt her old days at the village, being ostracized by the children, had come to an end. Here was a boy who treated her like a goddess, who took each of the features the children had once made fun of, and turned them into compliments, unworthy of a queen.

As she grew, her hair seemed to grow with her. It was still eccentric, yes, but now, at age sixteen, even she couldn't deny that it looked quite good.

And then Ash had to go and say something she'd hadn't heard in years. He just had to go and comment how her balloon shaped hair made it easy to find her in a crowd. _Balloon._

Emotions welled up inside her; ones which had not appeared in years now. And through her blurry eyes, she didn't her loving boyfriend before her, rather the face of the dozens of children, pointing and laughing as she tried to cover her hair with her hands. And so she ran. She ran, like she had run back then, she ran until she found a large enough tree, and she climbed to the tallest branch.

It took Ash all of ten minutes to find her whereabouts. He knew her, inside out, and he knew her tendency to climb trees when she was scared, or when she wanted to have fun, which was all the time. And because she was as demanding as she was, he had learned to climb trees nearly as well.

When he found her, she was sitting perfectly still, her eyes still puffy and red.

"Should I change it? My hair I mean. If you don't like it."

"What makes you think I don't like it?" He buried his face into her hair, inhaling its sweet, grassy scent.

"But you just…" He interrupted her, with his index finger on her lips.

"I'm sorry. I really am" It wasn't his fault of course, but he was Ash Ketchum, and he owed up to everything. He hugged her tighter, and yet again, all was well.

"You wouldn't throw stuff at me, would you Ash?"


	6. An Icy Nightmare

"I thought you loved me", Iris fake-sobbed hysterically into Ash's shoulder, clutching his forearms

"I _do _love you", Ash replied, his tone both exasperated and annoyed, as he patted her back gently.

"If you loved me, you wouldn't make me do this", Iris replied in a clearly rehearsed manner.

"Iris, stop that" Ash said, as he pulled her away from his shoulder. Iris' bawling immediately stopped, replaced by a scornful, irritated expression.

"What kind of dragon master will you be, if you stay afraid of ice-types, your entire life?"

"A good one?" Iris replied quizzically

Ash sighed, his head starting to ache once more. This girl was going to be the death of him. Pulling out the single pokeball on his belt, Ash released an old friend of his: Glalie, who immediately cried its name as a greeting.

Almost immediately, Iris's hair puffed up, and her face turned pale, the trademark ice-type-nearby look in full effect. She instinctively cuddled up to Ash, this time out of genuine fear. "PUT IT AWAYYY!" she screeched, shuddering uncontrollably. Ash pulled her closer, and attempted to mat down her hair, with limited success. For the longest while they stayed in that position, Iris shivering in the Ash's arms, the latter attempting to console her, and Glalie floating, very confused, nearby.

Finally, after a few minutes of quiet whimpering, Iris pulled away and turned to face Glalie, the apprehension never quiet leaving her face.

"Glalie, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Iris". Glalie happily called out its name in greeting, and approached Iris a bit, causing the girl to jump out and bury herself into Ash's shoulder, yet again. This served to both confuse, and slightly offend Glalie, as the little floating Pokemon puffed its breath in annoyance, irritation aplenty on his face. Quickly though, an idea came into his head. _This_ was going to be fun.

Ash motioned with one hand, for Glalie to stay put, and rubbed Iris's back, yet again. When she finally summoned the courage to look back, Glalie had put on his scariest "mean look" face. This time Iris didn't bother with snuggling; she ran as fast as she could, anywhere Glalie wouldn't be. But the instant she had turned around, Glalie took a deep breath, and let out an icebeam attack, freezing Iris's mane of hair solid. The poor girl fell to the floor, practically hysterical, as Ash tried, this time in vain, to comfort her again. Glalie, ofcourse, guffawed ceaselessly in mid air.

In retrospect, using his icebeam happy Glalie was probably a terrible idea. If before Iris had been afraid of Ice-types, she would refuse to even look at them now. It didn't matter though; they all had their own quirks. Even if she stayed afraid of ice-types her entire life, he'd still love her.


	7. When she's drunk

_**For those of you who haven't see the B2W2 Iris, google her up. Both Iris and Ash are champions in their respective regions in this fic. I know it's clichéd and overly-idealistic, but bear with me. Also, I know this story makes no sense, but I'm working on a separate fanfiction that should help illustrate some points.**_

In his twenty-one years of life, Ash had seen more than his fair share of hilarious things. A lifetime of travelling had been facilitated him greatly, to that end. But in his entire life, Ash could unequivocally say he had never seen something as hilarious, and yet simultaneously adorable, as Iris getting unbelievably drunk.

Iris had never been into drinking much. Maybe it was her health-nut persona, or the fact that she was really not interested in parties, or hanging out in groups. To her, the most she could ask from an evening was a quiet evening alone with her boyfriend, far from the eyes of any prying reporters, hoping to get an exclusive from Unova's illusive champion.

Tonight was different for once. Tonight, Ash had somehow forced her to show herself in public, fearing that she would be labeled a recluse. They were in Opelucid city's most exclusive bar, a highly elitist establishment, less than a mile away from their apartment. The reporters were kept miles away, so Iris was free from being beleaguered.

Ash had convinced Iris to take a few sips of a liquor bottle. What he hadn't foreseen was Iris's extreme sensitivity to alcohol. Within a few glasses of the substance, Iris was embarrassingly drunk, mumbling things that would have soiled her reputation as champion. She couldn't really walk, and had turned a deep hue of red all over.

Seeing the potential for disaster, Ash had picked her up bridal style, and carried her outside the bar, garnering more than a few disbelieving looks.

It was strange carrying Iris, in his arms, all the way back home, especially when she was so stupendously drunk. Thankfully, there was no one else on the road, so Iris was saved further humiliation.

Suddenly, Iris reached up with a free hand and began ruffling Ash's hair.

"I always liked your hair. All spiky, and silly" she slurred in a cute drunken drawl.

"That's nice Iris", he replied, smiling at her nonchalantly.

"You know Ash. When you left me, I missed you this much", she attempted to open her arms wide.

He didn't like the direction this conversation was heading, so he quickened his step. The five-year gap in their relationship, which Ash liked to think of as an intermission, was something he had never liked to discuss. They had both completely gotten over it of course. Well, not completely it seemed.

"I missed you so much I *hic, I tried to make my hair look like yours. I know it was stupid, but I thought you might see me on TV and *hic, come back to me"

What was she saying? Where was this coming from?

"I couldn't find a cap that fit on my head" She giggled manically at her own joke. "So I had to use this tiara."

"But Iris I…." he attempted to start, but Iris immediately cut him off with her drunken, high-pitched voice.

"I know why you left. I really do" She stumbled incessantly over her words

"I already told you. I left because I didn't think I was good enough for you"

Iris blew a sudden raspberry at this, leaving him stunned at her boldness.

"You left because I wasn't good enough" she droned on. "I was a terrible girlfriend. I know I was. But you still came back to me"

"WHAT!. Iris, no. That's not it at all!"

"YES IT IS!" she yelled immediately, moving her arms up and down in an uncoordinated motion, rocking Ash's entire body.

"I'm still a horrible girlfriend. I never tell you how much you mean to me. I cant even remember the last time I told you that I loved you. Or how much I love you. Or how horrible my life would be without you, how every day I dream that you're going to leave me again. I really try to be better, but I just can't."

Ash stood in stunned silence. Ever since Iris had accepted him back into her life, he hadn't given much of a thought to the lapse in their relationship. For the first time, the magnitude of what he'd made her go through, came crashing down on top of him. Ofcourse Iris had kept this hidden from him. It was part of her independent, stoic nature to hide any pain she felt. She didn't want to place her burden upon anyone else's shoulders. In a way, Ash felt more than a little betrayed that she hadn't shared this with him

She was slowly crying now. Soft sobs mixed with her odd hiccups, concocting a cacophony of noises. He pulled her close, so that her head was pressing against his chest, cradling her as best he could in his precarious position.

By the time they reached home, Iris had fallen in silent, almost comatose state. Ash dutifully helped her out of her dress, something that no longer embarrassed him in the slightest, and into her everyday pajamas. The harder part was helping her undo her hair. After that was done, he lifted the tiara off her head  
_She didn't need a tiara to be his princess_

Ash began undoing her hair, marveling at how intricately it was decorated, and how much effort it must take Iris each morning. A good boyfriend would have gotten up before her, and helped her with her hair. He untied the transparent linen thing she used to tie her hair, and brushed her long tresses, as he'd seen her do, a hundred times, chuckling quietly at her embarrassed, drunken attempts to help him with it. The effects of the alcohol were wearing off, but she still stumbled while walking, so he had to carry her into bed.

She looked at him despondently as Ash tucked her in, and gripped onto his arm as he attempted to walk out. Iris's message was clear, of course. He slipped in next to her, placed an arm around her shoulder, and propped himself up against the bed's frame, watching the light of his life go to sleep. She kept a tight grip on his arm, and he knew he'd have to sleep in his current, very uncomfortable, position. It didn't matter though. Now that he knew all that she'd gone through because of him, it was only the first item on a list of amends he needed to make


	8. Jealousy

If there was one thing Iris felt was wrong with Ash, it was that he was a tad bit too perfect. It was annoying really, acknowledging that the one problem with her boyfriend was his lack of problems, and it did little to ease her feeling of inadequacy. He was trusting, he doted on her, and he never eyed her with suspicion or distrust. That, in itself, wasn't the problem. The problem was the complete and utter lack of a jealous bone in his body.

It wasn't that Iris wanted a jealous psycho-stalker as her boyfriend. But Arceus knew, that when he spent all that time in Kanto, serving as the reigning champion, she would be worried sick, imagining all the Kantoiite sunbathers that might be wrapped around his body, shoving their over-developed _womanly parts _in his face. Or maybe he'd lied to her about being in Kanto, and was actually in Sinnoh with that ditzy, blue-headed coordinator friend of his. Just the mere thought of her made Iris want to tear open a pillow or something in the general direction of mindless head-shredding. Maybe if he was just a teensy bit suspicious of her actions, or a bit more possessive, it might make her feel…what? Cherished maybe? A little less unworthy. It was, however, pretty obvious why Ash never suspected her of anything out of line.

_He trusted her._

These were the types of thoughts Iris had to bear all day, and when Ash would finally return to Unova each night, after a long flight on Charizard's back, she would viciously interrogate him, and he would cheerfully answer all her questions. Then he would happily listen to her, without so much as casting a suspicious eye, as Iris would tell him about her own week.

That all changed, one fateful day, when the Kanto league announced a surprise holiday for all it's employees. Since Ash didn't have to travel to Kanto, he decided to surprise Iris, by paying her a surprise visit, at the Unova league's office. Carrying a picnic basket, laden with food, he strolled down the strangely empty, castle-like halls of the building, and entered the Champion's room, designed more like a throne room, something he was sure Iris wouldn't have liked much. Expecting to see Iris looking bored, and radiant as always, he saw Iris, deep in conversation with a black-haired man, who had a Liepard at his heel.

Immediately, Ash drew two conclusions. First of all, he did not like anything about this strange, over-formally dressed person. He didn't like the way he spoke (to Iris), the way he dressed (In front of Iris), the way he leaned (on Iris's desk), or indeed, the way he exuded confidence (in Iris's proximate airspace).

Secondly, Ash decided, Cilan had been right all along about Purrloins, and their evolutions. They were nothing but trouble. He didn't know why, but nothing that sleek and innocuous looking, could be anything but trouble.

For Iris, the series of events that followed were too blurry to keep track of. One moment, she was discussing the schedule for upcoming challengers with Grimsley, the next, there was Ash, with his arm wrapped snugly around her shoulder, holding her in a way he's never held her before, staring down a confused elite four member, with a deathly stare.

The rest of the day, Ash assumed a personality she had never seen in him. He was attentive to her every word, even more so than usual. He constantly kept his arm around her, fiercely possessive, and continuously asked questions about Grimsley. He even went as far as to hand feed her food off the picnic.

_Oh Arceus, how she loved it._

She loved the attention he began to give her; she loved the feeling of being so cherished, so wanted. She loved that he began to spend hours, scrutinizing her report, when he asked her how her day went. She loved waking up each morning, and having him comb her hair, and watching him and Pikachu make breakfast, and she loved the new found energy with which he cuddled her. She loved that he would continually surprise her, by showing up at the Unova league's building, while she was working, she loved that he began to watch each of her battles, in person, and the way he helped her train and improve her strategy. She loved the way he only ever referred to her as "love" or "angel" or something just as sickeningly cheesy, and adorable. She loved it all, and she never wanted it to change.

Ash had always been a loving, and respectful boyfriend. The fact that he chose to live in a separate region from where he worked, all for her, was testament to that, as were the great distances he had to fly at Charizard's breakneck speed, to spend the night with her. But now this had become a competition to him. For the first time it occurred to him, that there was a plethora of men who would have happily taken his spot. She was beautiful, ofcourse, and she was champion. Unless he treated Iris like a princess, what reason did she have to stay with him?

Iris knew what was going through his head, and at times she debated telling him how incredibly wrong he was. She knew that could never leave him. It was scary how much she loved him at times. He was the centre of her world, and he could be downright abusive if he wanted, and he'd still have her heart. She hated to think that she could be so weak, but it was the truth.

In the meantime, Ash could keep his little spark of motivation.

Sometimes, when she knew Ash was about to visit her at the league, she would deliberately call Grimsley up to her office. Grimsley was naturally talkative, and charming, so all she really needed was an excuse, and he'd quickly fall into an easy-going conversation, one that would petrify Ash as he showed up at her office. Then, Ash would quickly cross the room, and put his arm around her waist, or her shoulders, and stared down a bewildered Grimsley.

Despite the glares she got from Shauntal everyday, it was a fruitful system

She felt guilty, ofcourse. A lot, in fact. At night, he would mumble her name over and over, and pull her into a deathgrip, and she'd feel like the most terrible person on earth.

Strangely enough, Pikachu knew what was going on. He was volumes more perceptive than Ash, and he definitely did not enjoy what Iris was doing. After a while, the Pokemon who would once electrocute anyone but his trainer and his trainer's girlfriend, refused to even let her touch him. That was what hurt the most, Iris decided.

So finally, when Iris summoned the courage to confess her toying with his emotions, and marched up into his room, and revealed all she'd been doing, he replied, with a massive grin,

"I know, but that doesn't mean I still can't treat you like a princess"


	9. Becoming Family: Part 2

After Delia had released Iris from her deathhug, she led Iris and her son into the living room couch, and sauntered off into the kitchen, still crooning about how wonderful Iris was, and how her son finally had a soulmate.

_Soulmate? Really?_

Talk about Awkward. She and Ash sat in silence on the couch for a long, pregnant pause, before Ash finally blurted out

"Sorry. My mom is kind of…"

"It's fine" she replied, placing her hand, comfortingly on top of his, a solitary romantic gesture, in an otherwise completely unromantic situation.

Of course as Murphy's Law would have it, this gesture coincided perfectly with Delia walking into the room, with a plate of tea and cookies. And of course, she just had to shriek with delight and go ahead and say

"Now now, you two. Save the romance for when you're alone". And of course, she also had to wink at the two of them, and then giggle a bit more when they both flushed red.

In the coming days, Iris came to a few conclusions about the workings of Delia's mind. She treated Iris with a level of maternal affection, the latter had never received, save perhaps from the Matriarch. It was refreshing, Iris decided, to have a shoulder like hers to lean on. Ash had always been there for her, of course, but there were some things that only a mother could have helped her out with, and Delia was there to completely fulfill that role.

For one, Delia introduced Iris to the world of shopping. It was a dreary morning, when Ash was busy with his Pokemon at professor Oak's lab that Delia suggested to two of them take a train over to Celadon city, for a day of bonding. It was an uneasy offer, but Iris's boredom trumped her trepidation, and she decided a day with Delia wouldn't be so bad.

_An entire day. All alone. With Delia. No Ash in sight to cling onto, in case things got bad_

Surprisingly, Iris discovered a new type of fun on that day. She thoroughly enjoyed picking out clothes, and trying them out, and hearing Delia's (brutally honest) opinion about them. Delia herself was an exhaustive shopper and made Iris try on dozens of different articles of clothing, until she found something that suited the confused young girl. After that was done, Delia dragged Iris to buy certain _feminine clothing articles, _that she felt the latter was old enough to begin wearing. Even though this last endeavor was perhaps the most embarrassing experience of Iris's life, she still felt the say had been an overwhelming success.

But of course, Delia wasn't content with remaking Iris's clothes alone. If the purple-haired, wide-eyed little girl was to be her Ashy's girlfriend (And Delia found herself truly hoping she would be), then she would also be the prettiest girlfriend in the world.

Delia next took Iris to a hair salon, where the hairdresser practically fainted at the sheer _size_ of the problem he would be dealing with. Eventually, after much combing and blowdrying and conditioning and _absolutely no cutting_ (Iris's glare giving the poor man enough of an incentive to not so much as look at a pair of scissors), Iris found herself ogling at the mirror. Her hair was sleeker, cascading down her back in a river of glossy purple, instead of staying in a massive puffy bunch. Since Axew had long since evolved, and could no longer fit in her hair, Iris found herself more than content with the new hairstyle.

The day was exhausting and had drained her to the bone, but the jaw-droppy stares Iris got from Ash, for the next month or so, were more than enough of a reward. Maybe it went a bit far, when she found him looking directly at her chest, wondering what was amiss, or when she woke up to find him religiously sniffing a strand of her hair, holding it like a piece of the Arceus's crown.

Nonetheless, Iris loved the feeling of being special she got, when Ash was around her. But equally so, she loved the feeling of finally having a mother look after her.


	10. A slip of the Tongue

_Silence_

Not just any type of silence, Ash thought. The awkward, quiet-before-the-storm, type of silence; the kind that Ash had experienced far too many times before. It was short-lived of course, as surely any type of silence would be, when Iris was in the room. By now, Ash had enough experience to know that he had to duck behind the sofa, when the first of a myriad of eating utensils was thrown haphazardly at him.

From the other end of the kitchen, Iris had fallen into something half-way between a delirious bout of yells, and a fit of hysterical sobs, as she hurled whatever was lying on the counter, at her frightened husband, accentuating each of her (remarkably accurate) throws with an emphasized insult. It was astonishing that she hadn't begun to throw any glassware yet, but that seemed likely to change, since there were only so many utensils on the counter

Stopping to catch his breath, Ash glanced across the room to Pikachu, who shrugged nonchalantly, as if to say "Your wife, your mess"

Stopping for a moment, Ash decided to record something in his mental notebook, the one that never seemed to do him any good.

If ever he attended a wedding, he would grab the groom by the shoulders, drag him to a corner, and let him know with the utmost seriousness

If your ever wife walks up to you, looking a bit stressed, and gingerly tells you that she's pregnant, the absolute LAST thing you did, was ask her who the father is. And then after that, even if only to cover up your thoughtlessness, under no condition should you burst out laughing.

Now was hardly the time to muse over his (rather jarring) shortcoming as a husband, however. Iris's delirium was growing worse.

"All these past years, have been a joke to you haven't they? All this time, I've been in love with a scumbag, whose been sleeping around behind my back"

Ash popped up from behind the couch

"Iris, angel, don't you think that's…."

"DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME THAT!" This time, an entire frying pan flew in his direction, narrowly missing his ear, as he dived behind the dining table, having successfully gotten a bit closer to his steaming wife.

"It was Dawn, wasn't it?" Her normally authoritative voice, which moved with champion-like command, was uncharacteristically weak, the first signs of tears, beginning to appear on her face

"That time you went too early, to drop her at the airport, you were really just spending time in a cheap hotel room, weren't you? That's why you think that I'd…That I…"

The next item to be thrown at the sofa was too small to be a saucer, or even a spoon. It was small, and shined with a brilliant purple spark.

_Her wedding ring._

Now Iris was sobbing into her palms, her barrage of cutlery having temporarily halted.

Seeing his chance, Ash scooped up the ring, and swiftly, but quietly, made his way towards her. It was agony seeing her like this, and of the handful of times Ash had seen Iris cry, it hurt even more to acknowledge that it was almost always because of him. He and his stupid mouth, and his impulsiveness, and Iris's tendency to never take anything at face value.

When he was within a foot of her, Iris looked up and immediately raised the frying pan she had in her hand.

Grasping the opportunity, Ash leaped forward, and immediately planted his lips on hers. He wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her close. With the hand that had the ring in it, Ash painstakingly pried the frying pan from Iris's, now limp, fingers, and placed it on the counter. Then, using the one hand only, he skillfully placed the ring back into its appropriate place, feeling an almost palpable sense of relief, as it slipped snugly onto her finger.

The crisis having been mostly averted, Ash placed his now free hand, onto Iris's hair stroking it slowly, just the way she loved. They kissed tenderly, and passionately, a chaste, gentle embrace, not the slightest bit forceful, or intrusive. They kissed like they had, when they were teenagers and kissing was mysterious, like a magical gate to adulthood. It was a reminder of all the years they had spent together, from the early days, when they would sneak away from Cilan in the dead of the night, to their life as a married couple. It was a reminder, more importantly, of all the wonderful years they had left together, now as a family, instead of a duo, and how much of a waste it would be to throw all of that away.

When they finally pulled away, Iris snuggled into his chest.

"Am I going crazy, Ash?"

He chuckled into her hair

"Not at all Iris. You're under a lot of pressure, and I had to go and say the stupidest thing ever"

Then he did something, he'd been itching to do for the past few minutes. He pushed up Iris's shirt a bit, and lay a palm on her belly. She blushed immediately, and Ash grinned one his trademark, naive grins

"After all. There are two of you now"


	11. Of Cosplay and Fetishes

_She was going to kill him_

That was the only logical solution, of course. He had to die, for making her go through this embarrassment. Not for the first time, Iris was struck by just how audacious Ash was, for asking her to, no, making her do this.

The woman behind the counter had a knowing smile on her face, which did absolutely nothing to improve Iris' state of humiliation. Really now, didn't this lady know who she was smiling provocatively at? When the champion of Unova walked into your shop, the last thing you did was grin stupidly at them, like they were some kind of social abomination. Even if said champion wore an overcoat, with a hoodie, and massive sunglasses, so that a single strand of purple hair was all the only discernable feature on their face

-_Flashback-_

"_I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry", Iris pleaded. "I swear, I looked for hours, I just couldn't think of anything"_

"_That's alright, Iris" He replied, the slightly hurt look on his face giving his feelings away. "I really don't mind. I know you didn't mean to"_

_He was bound to say that of course. That was typical Ash behavior. He'd do anything to protect her feelings, including lie about his own emotions. Even forgive her for not having gotten him anything for his birthday_

"_Oh, Ash, this has to be the worst birthday ever. I'm so sorry" She wrapped her arms around his neck, wishing for once that he'd be mad at her, just as she deserved. They'd been dating for a decade, and she still couldn't think of something that he'd have liked. Perhaps it stemmed from the fact that he was so ludicrously selfless, his own desires rarely ever materialized._

"_Please, if there's anything you want, you can tell me" Even if she'd lost the chance to surprise him, she refused to skip the opportunity to make things better. In the back of her mind, Iris could imagine him standing outside their door, with his bags all packed, softly telling her that the lack of a birthday gift had opened his eyes to just how much of a selfish bitch she was._

_At the same time, Ash was having thoughts along a completely different line, the cogs in his head, rapidly forming a plan_

"_Anything?" He asked, his voice heavy with a suggestive tone, she'd never seen him use._

In hindsight, that obviously indicative voice should have tipped her off to just what he had in mind. But she'd been too obsessed with correcting her wrong to notice, and here she was paying the price

Before her, the lady on the counter still hasn't dropped that infuriating smile. Finally, the woman placed her forearms on the counter

"So. Your boyfriend discovered a new fetish, hon?"

Despite the blunt way she put it, Iris was amazed at how she'd cut straight to the heart of the matter. Nervously, Iris tightened the hoodie around her head, an action that didn't go entirely unnoticed

"Don't worry, I really don't care what you look like. I probably won't remember. So long as you pay good money, that is. So. What have you got in mind?"

Iris mortification rose to truly spectacular levels, as she gingerly pointed at the shop's display case. The woman's only reply was a shrill whistle, which once again, did not make Iris feel any more at ease.

-_Flashback_-

"_You want me to what?" She all but screamed out loud, clutching the magazine in her shaking hand_

"_You said you'd do anything. But, it's alright if you don't want to. I don't want to force you into anything" He sounded so despondent, that for a moment, Iris was overcome by sympathy. _

"_Oh my, Ash… It's just…. I didn't know you were into…..This sort of thing", she stuttered over her words. She picked up the magazine once again, and looked again at the awkward, to say the least, French maid costume Ash had pointed at. She scoffed mentally, taking care to not let her contempt show. Despite what she thought of it, she didn't want to hurt Ash's feelings, yet again. The outfit was dreadfully frilly, obviously designed for a stripper of some sort, with a hem line that was far too high to be practical in any way._

_She looked up again, and as she looked into Ash's eyes, she knew she'd lost this battle. The look on his face was impossible to say no to._

"_Okay" she mumbled weakly, knowing that she'd gravely underestimated what she'd gotten herself into_

"_Alright, Iris! You're the best" He scooped her up in a hug enthusiastically, and stroked her hair, though for once, the feeling of his arms around her was not enough to snap her out of her thoughts._

After the horrifying experience of being in a cosplay shop, Iris quickly made her purchase, and went home. Truly, she was sure there was nothing scarier than being in that dreadful shop. That was until she decided to put on the newly purchased outfit. It made her feel cheap and more than a little contemptible.

When Ash finally entered through the front door, and found her grumpily lying on the couch, in an outfit he'd only dreamed of seeing her in. He silently walked in and placed her on his lap. Then he did something that utterly surprised her. Instead of making a move to _help _her out of her clothes, he picked up the remote on the side table, and absently started flicking through channels, eventually settling on a live Pokemon battle.

"But, don't you want to….You know?" She inquired meekly.

For a while, there was confusion abound on Ash's face, as to what exactly she meant. It vanished, and was replaced by a look of even deeper confusion

"But, what's the point of asking you to put that on, if I'd want you to take it off again?"

"But then, why'd you ask me to put it on" Her voice was weighed down with bewilderment

"You look cute"

He spoke as if that was the simplest line of reason in the world, and kissed her on the temple, as if she were a child being explained what gravity was. Soon enough, he went back to his battle, absently running his hands through her hair.

This wasn't the first time he'd surprised her. Rather, he seemed to do that every week. But this was the first time she realized, that she could be rolling around in a dumpster, and he still wouldn't make her feel cheap.


End file.
